"Press It Up Against Me, Slave."

That’s what Mistress said last night when it was lights out here in River City. In fact, that’s what she usually says. She likes the feel of my cock pressed up between the cheeks of that delightful ass as she slips off to dream land.

And of course I try to accommodate, spooning up against her, an arm wrapped around her resting on a breast. 

Last night, the cock was all worn out, a little damp from some power fucking, the type that goes on for a long time, in part because after a long and busy day, Slave has the energy to get his cock nice and hard (with some handy provocation from Mistress) but not the energy and focus for a quick cum, once Mistress’s needs are “resolved”.

So Mistress had the experience of me taking a long slow and persistent time before I begged for permission. And I heard no complaints. In fact, Mistress seems to enjoy that long slow fuck, with a few additional orgasms tossed in to keep her entertained along the way.

Before the fucking part, we had been laying in bed, watching the uplifting if unnerving news from Cairo on my laptop (That Erin Burnett on NBC must have packed a lot of wardrobe for this story – I swear we saw her in 3 tops over the course of the evening).

Mistress was multi-tasking: trolling through facebook to check out photos of friends, while texting back and forth with our Western Correspondent.

M’s town, out there on the edge of the Rockies, was in the crosshairs of the weather Armageddon that the networks are obsessing about, and M texted Molly that the temperatures were supposedly headed for 17 below.

“Better warn him to protect the equipment, Mistress …. They say once a body part suffers frost bite, it’s even more vulnerable the next time….”

We sure don’t want to see  UCTMW Worker’s comp premiums spike. Profit margins are pretty thin already, and can barely keep Mistress in power tools and tricked out black tights.

Mistress must have passed on the message. When the little text chime went off, she snickered.

“He wants to know when Donna is going to deliver his cock cozy…. He may need it this week.”

A bit later, Mistress was texting some more, and mentioned that M was complaining that he’s getting “fat”…. Has all that rehabilitation  made him a couch potato?

“I guess we could adopt a wellness program, Mistress …. Don’t want our far flung staff getting too thick… that’s going to drive up health care costs.

When M got wind of this possibility, he began layering on the demands …. Gym membership …. Massage therapist …. You get the picture.  I’m wondering if we can outsource his job to someone in India, who won’t abuse the expense account, but can still keep Mistress entertained with the occasional rampant cock shot?

Something to consider when we update the UCTMW strategic plan.

It was about that time that Mistress signed off with M, and I shut down the news feed.

“I told him we’re having sex now, Slave.”

And so we did.

But at around 4:15 am, I heard from Mistress again.

“I’m having trouble sleeping Slave….”

Hmmm. I wasn’t. But I do live to serve her.  I stifled a yawn, and did my best to respond.

“Would you like me to deploy your power tool, Mistress?”

I wasn’t too confident that the batteries on my organic tool had recharged sufficiently, if you know what I mean.

No, Slave…. I think I want the real one….”

I tried to wake myself, then sidled up next to her. Fingers slid between those familiar folds. Already damp. Teeth latched onto vibrant nipples. Deep kisses were exchanged as Mistress’s lovely body wound itself around mine.

Soon my fingers were having the desired effect, as Mistress moaned and writhed her way through a seemingly satisfying cum.

Would this make her drowsy?

Uhhh, No.

“How’s my cock, Slave….”

Her well manicured hands sought it out… and, I was surprised to discover that it was …. interested. Soon, with some additional provocation from Mistress’s skilled fingers, it was very interested. So interested that I was begging for the opportunity to demonstrate it’s intended purpose.

Not unlike a few hours earlier, this turned into one of those long drawn out affairs. At some point I took a break to slide off my T-Shirt.

“It’s getting hot in here, Mistress….”

“Yes, Slave…. Very.”

And when we were finally done – after permission was granted and taken – I slid back to sleep for a while, having served my purpose. But Mistress  -- she was up and running – on her lap-top, responding to office emails, checking the weather.  Very focused.

No wonder she’s the CEO. And I’m the lackey.

HNT / Command Performance

Mistress asked “what are you doing, Slave”, as I took this picture of her perky nipple peeking out from beneath her lacy nighttime confection.

It was Sunday morning. She was staked out on our bed, spread eagle style, waiting for the feather.

“Just stocking up on some photos for your many fans, Mistress.”

I hope you readers in Abu Dabi, Germany, France, England, New Zealand like these little glimpses of My Mistress’s physical charms.


I knew I was due some form of punishment for several unfortunate and impertinent comments I made Monday evening. Mistress is really pretty easy on me, but what’s the point in having a Slave who gives you “back sass”, as my grandmother used to put it.

There have to be consequences.

I had a hint of what they might be by Tuesday evening.

“Slave… tomorrow wake me around 6:45…. You can lick me when I read the blog. But no sex for you. We’ll be going on a morning bike ride instead.

“Of course, Mistress.”

So Mistress was worshiped. Then we were off in the pre-dawn glow. It was great for my body and my head to get the heart pumping so early, and watch the sun come up and light those glorious fall leaves.

So the denial of my normal morning sexual release was hardly frustrating.

Yesterday, Mistress dressed the part for fall. Black mid-thigh dress, black tights, And these new over the knee black boots that was an addition to her fall/winter wardrobe.

Hot.

I must share some pictures of those soon.

I knew she would be getting some jaw dropping looks as she strode about downtown.

And, on the commute to work, as I let my fingers slide across the soft fabric containing her recently exercised thighs, I already was regretting not getting that morning release.

We attended a political event that evening after work, and we enjoyed each other's company as we chatted up the crowd. I appreciated the looks that Mistress and her shiny high boots were getting, There may have been a few potential applicants for Slave2 on hand.

By the time we got home, I was hoping that my sentence would be commuted. And it seemed that way as we spread ourselves across the bed and talked for a while with Aisha.

It’s always a surprise to hear the voice of someone you’ve come to know through the written word. Her voice is a bit deeper than you might think, with a knowing and open laugh. And she comes with a soft, regional twang that came, for no good reason, as a bit of a surprise. She could be cast in the kink remake of “Gone With the Wind”, topping Rhett from below. Tara will come with a dungeon this time.

We can’t wait to meet her and Sir D as they guide us through what is sure to me an “interesting” experience.

It’s nice to have even more fodder for our kinky fantasies, and inspiration for our own experiments.

As we talked, Mistress was pointed north on the bed, and me south, with our speaker phone in the middle. It gave me the chance to suck on her toes, her tights already peeled off, and, from time to time, slide my fingers up her legs to tease at those soft, damp folds.

Mistress’s sweet, musky aroma was part of the conversation, at least to me. And it was telling me “soon, Slave, soon.”

As a consequence, I probably terminated our chat a little prematurely.

“Well, Aisha, this was fun. But we have some things to take care of here…..Let’s talk again soon.”

I’m not sure she understood what I had in mind, but I do apologize if it seemed abrupt.

But as I tucked the phone a way. Mistress gave me the bad news.

“Slave, I think I’m a little tired tonight. You will have to wait until morning.”

Damn.

A stealth abstinence day.

“That’s only fair Mistress…. After how I handled things the other night.”

“Yes…. It is Slave.”

But there is a “happy ending”. Or was.

Around 3:35 am, I was woken by a little whisper from Mistress.

A woke to realize that my arm was draped between her legs. I could feel those subtle undulations already, her hips discretely moving against me.

“You are now allowed to fuck me slave….”

Well I was a little groggy, true. But I shook myself out of that middle of the night lethargy,

I was not going to make that mistake again.

“Thank you, Mistress….”